Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sierra Leone and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Half Japanese to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pussy Galore,
The Black Dice,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rites of Spring,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Searchers,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Simply Red,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T.S.O.L.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Human League,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
The Doors,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television Personalities,
The Cowsills,
Popol Vuh,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moebius,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter and Kerry,
The Five Americans,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sugar Minott,
Minny Pops,
Camouflage,
The Vogues,
EPMD,
Ken Boothe,
Fear,
Grauzone,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tubeway Army,
Public Enemy,
Intrusion,
David Bowie,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Model 500,
Panda Bear,
a-ha,
Althea and Donna,
Liliput,
Flipper,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
the Sonics,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.